What Ifs
by RiddikulusRaven
Summary: What if... Harry accepted The Handshake? Sirius never went after Peter? Arthur Weasley died in OOTP? This is just a series of ficlets exploring what would have been different had certain points in time not occurred.
1. Introduction

Hey everyone! I wanted to get this fic set up ahead of time and kind of establish some information about it so you all could get a sense of what's incoming.

This will be in addition to the other fics I'm working on. It's just something I'll add to when the occasion arises that I'm inspired to add another ficlet.

Important things to note:

1\. I rated it T to be on the safe side, since I don't know what all will pop up in the future

2\. If you have any ideas of what you'd like to see, PM me! I'm more than willing to take requests and inspiration for this one!

3\. None of the chapters will be connected unless I specify otherwise.

I'm looking forward to working on this indefinitely! :)


	2. Sirius Didn't Go After Peter

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Here's the first "What If" that's always bubbled around in my brain. A good portion of it is told through letters, and yes, a great deal of time is skipped throughout. But that's to be expected of a ficlet, right? ;)

I took a few liberties with some things that weren't 100% known canonically. You'll know what things when you see them, I hope. Without further ado, here is:

* * *

 **What If . . .**

 **Sirius Didn't Go After Peter**

* * *

Sirius stood amidst the rubble of Potter Cottage, tears streaming down his face. He looked down at the cherubic face of his godson. This beautiful, green-eyed baby needed him now.

He lifted Harry from the nearly-untouched crib. The boy looked at him with wide, trusting eyes. As much as the anger bubbling inside of him was screaming to be released, and as much as he hated Peter in that moment of devastation, Sirius was going to take Harry home and raise him well. He owed his best friends that much.

After an interminable amount of time, Harry was asleep in Sirius's arms. Quietly, he pulled out his wand and sent a Patronus to Dumbledore. " _It was Peter,"_ was all it said. Hopefully that would be enough for now.

Just as Sirius was about to climb aboard his motorbike and fly away, a loud _pop!_ split the night air. He turned around to see Hagrid approaching him.

"Sirius," he rumbled.

"Hagrid."

"Dumbledore, he said I was to take 'im to his aunt and uncle's," Hagrid choked out.

Sirius frowned. "I'm his godfather, Hagrid. An honorary member of the Potter family. James and Lily wanted _me_ to take care of him."

"But Dumbledore—"

"Let me handle him," Sirius interrupted. "Right now I've got to get Harry out of here. I've—" He broke off, muffling another sob.

Hagrid nodded. "A'right then. D'you mind if I come by to see 'im sometime?"

"Just gotta figure out where we're gonna settle down," Sirius said, "but I'll send you an owl as soon as I can."

He glanced at the sleeping bundle in his arms. His reckless life was going to change now. "Tell Dumbledore I'll be at Remus's house when he wants to come yell at me."

Hagrid let out a watery chuckle. "Will do."

* * *

"Sirius?" Remus rubbed his eyes sleepily. "What are you doing here at this ruddy hour?"

Sirius shouldered his way into the living room without a word, but none was needed.

" _Harry?_ " Remus exclaimed upon seeing the infant in his friend's arms.

Fresh tears welled up in Sirius's eyes. "Lily and James, they're—"

"No . . ."

He nodded. "Can—can we stay here for a night or two? I've got to figure out a more permanent place to go. I won't take him to Grimmauld Place. No child should have to set foot in that hell hole." Sirius was rambling now, and he knew it. He didn't care.

Remus frowned. "Wait a moment . . . You're their Secret Keeper! How did You-Know-Who find them?!"

Sirius sighed as he sat on the couch. "I made them switch to Peter. Use Legilimency on me if you want. It won't bring them back." Tears slipped down his face.

With a distrusting look on his face, Remus pointed his wand at Sirius's forehead. " _Legilimens._ "

Images flashed in Sirius's head, first of him dragging Peter to Potter Cottage and _demanding_ that James make him the Secret Keeper instead. After all, who would suspect the smallest of the group to hold the keys to their safety? Next he relived Lily performing the Fidelius Charm; lastly, the events of this horrid evening.

 _Sirius had been at a Muggle bar, flirting with a pretty girl, when a bright silvery light attracted his attention outside the window. Without another word to the girl, he'd rushed outside to Lily's Patronus._

" _He's coming," it had said._

 _With terror flooding every nerve in his body, Sirius had Apparated to their home only to find it in shambles._

"I should have _known!_ " he roared. "I should never have trusted that rat!"

Remus sat beside him, tears running down his own face. "What happens now?" he asked.

"I expect Dumbledore will come calling soon. He wanted to give Harry to his bloody _Muggle_ relatives! I refused to let Hagrid take him, though."

"Good. I'm glad you didn't go chasing after Peter," Remus said. A dark snarl twisted his features. "It's a full moon in a week, and I haven't seen my little friend in ages."

Sirius had never seen his friend like this—for as long as he'd known the man, Remus had been afraid of ever hurting anyone. But this . . .

He knew he ought to stop Remus from doing it.

"Don't forget to take your potion first," was what he said instead.

* * *

 _Three years later_

* * *

"Your dad and I were like brothers," Sirius said to his four-year-old godson, telling the story to him _yet again_.

"An' an' when did you tuwn into a doggie?" Harry asked.

Sirius chuckled. "When I was fifteen," he said. "And your dad was a stag. When your mum found out, she was furious at us."

"Why?" he asked, eyes wide.

"Well," Sirius said, scratching his chin, "what we did was sort of against the rules."

Harry's eyes grew impossibly wider. "You bwoke wules?"

"Yeah, we did. All the time. But remember, we did it for Uncle Remus," Sirius reminded him. "We did it to help."

Harry nodded sagely, then said, "When is Uncle Wemus comin' to see us again?"

That was always a tough question to answer.

Sirius sighed. "I dunno, Harry. A lot of people don't like Uncle Remus because of his little furry problem, remember?"

"Yeah," the little boy replied sadly. "I miss him."

"Me too, little buddy. Me too."

After a moment of silence, Harry perked back up again. "When is Auntie Hestie comin' to see us again?"

Sirius smiled fondly at the mention of his "lady friend." He'd reconnected with Hestia Jones after moving into the same Wizarding neighborhood she lived in in the Scottish Highlands. Initially, they'd just been acquaintances that reminisced over their Hogwarts' days, but after Sirius asked her to watch Harry once, they became close friends. After a year and a half, it became something . . . _more_. She loved him despite his failings, and he needed that in his life.

Hestia came by for "family dinner" every Sunday night. After Harry was asleep, she and Sirius would have some much-needed alone time. It was a pretty sweet deal, if Sirius said so himself.

"You know she's coming tonight, Harry," Sirius said with a chuckle. "She comes every Sunday."

Harry grinned. "Jus' makin' sure _you_ wemember."

"Hinting at something, are you?" Sirius asked.

Harry's eyes were bright and mischievous when he said, "I found a _wing_ yestewday."

"A . . . wing?" Sirius asked.

"No, not a wing," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "A _wing_."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Okay . . ."

Harry huffed in irritation and pointed to his ring finger. "A _wing_."

"Oh!" Sirius flushed. "That's—that's not what you think, son."

"What is it?" he asked, pouting.

"Harry, that ring was your mum's. And before that, your grandmother Potter's. It's supposed to be for you to give to the witch you'll marry someday." Sirius flinched at the look on his godson's face.

"So . . ." the boy said slowly, his face scrunched up in confusion, "you're _not_ going to mawwy Auntie Hestie?"

Sirius shrugged. "Maybe sometime in the future," he conceded. "But I don't plan on asking her any time soon. Merlin, we just started dating a few months ago."

"Oh."

The sadness in Harry's eyes tugged at Sirius's heartstrings. "Listen, son, you don't have to be sad. Aunt Hestia will still come visit all the time."

"But she won't _wive_ wif us," he said sadly.

"Not yet, no," Sirius said. "And Great Godric, I shouldn't even be talking about this with you! You're bloody _four!_ "

"Sowwy," Harry mumbled. "I just wike her a wot."

"Me too, son. Me too."

* * *

 _Seven years after that  
_

* * *

"Harry! Your letter is here!" Sirius shouted excitedly.

Harry dashed down the stairs and into the kitchen, his eyes shining behind his glasses. "Finally!" he shouted, snatching the envelope from his godfather's hand and tearing it open eagerly. "I'm so excited!"

"I just _know_ you'll be in Gryffindor," Sirius said, his chest puffing out proudly.

"Most likely," Harry said. "After all, you and Mum and Dad—and Aunt Hestia—were all Gryffindors. It tends to rub off on you after a while." After he finished scanning his supply list, he begged, " _Please_ can I take my broom? I won't tell _anyone,_ I swear!"

Sirius chuckled. "No, that's not a good idea. Wouldn't want you getting expelled before you've had a chance to learn anything properly."

"Yes, sir," he mumbled dejectedly.

"Harry?" Sirius asked. "Would you like to go get your things right now?"

Harry shrugged miserably.

"Oh, come on. We'll stop for ice cream at Fortescue's before we leave," he wheedled.

The boy brightened instantly. "Okay!"

The pair Floo'd to the Leaky Cauldron and quickly entered Diagon Alley.

"Can I have an owl?" Harry asked. "It _is_ my birthday."

Sirius snickered. "Sure. I'll buy you an owl for your birthday."

"Hooray!" Harry cheered. "I want a snowy owl!"

"But let's get it _after_ we get the rest of your supplies, Harry. Don't want it dying of boredom now, do we?"

Harry laughed. "Can we get my wand first?"

"I like that idea very much. To Ollivander's we go."

Sirius sneezed as soon as they entered the shop. His doggy senses were always over-reactive to dust.

"Good afternoon," a soft voice uttered from the shadowy shelves.

Sirius shook his head in amusement.

"Sirius Black," Mr. Ollivander murmured. "Blackthorn, eleven inches, dragon heartstring. Very powerful wand. Engraved the runes myself."

Sirius nodded. "It's served me well, Ollivander."

"Mmm." Mr. Ollivander turned his attention to Harry. "Ah yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon, Harry Potter. You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Harry nodded. "Yes sir. Sometimes I hold it to feel close to her."

Mr. Ollivander smiled sadly. "The world lost two great people the night your parents died." After a short pause, he said, "Your father's wand, on the other hand, was mahogany. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration."

"Yes sir," Harry said again. "Sirius keeps their wands in a glass case in our library at home."

"I do wish you had known them," Mr. Ollivander replied. "Alas, that was not to be."

Harry shrugged, looking highly uncomfortable as Mr. Ollivander wandered even closer.

The old man reached out a knobby finger and touched the scar on Harry's forehead. "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he whispered. "Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands . . . well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do . . ."

"Well, let's get to it then, shall we?" Sirius asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yes, yes, of course," Mr. Ollivander said. "You've told the boy all about You-Know-Who, I presume?"

"Of course I have," Sirius said, trying not to show his irritation.

"Mmm."

Without another word, Mr. Ollivander wandered off to examine the shelves stacked with wands of all shapes and sizes. A few minutes later, he returned with an armful of boxes and dumped them on the counter.

"Here, try this one. Beech wood and dragon heartstring."

Harry reached out to take the wand, but Mr. Ollivander drew his arm back before he could touch it.

"No, no. Try this: maple and phoenix feather."

Again, Harry reached for the wand, only to achieve the same result. Mr. Ollivander handed the boy wand after wand: ebony and unicorn hair, vine and dragon heartstring, oak and phoenix feather. None of them seemed quite right. But then a strange look crossed Mr. Ollivander's face, and he rushed out of sight once more. When he returned, his hands were shaking slightly around the single box he held.

"I wonder . . . Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry took the wand and swished it through the air. Red and gold sparks shot from the end, and the air swirled around Harry like a vortex.

"Well done, son," Sirius said proudly.

"Oh, bravo!" Mr. Ollivander cried. "Though it is curious . . . very curious indeed."

"What's curious, Ollivander?" Sirius asked as the old man wrapped Harry's wand in brown paper.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold Mr. Black. Every single wand." Ollivander turned his gaze to Harry. "It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand gave another feather—just one other. It is very curious indeed that you, Mr. Potter, should be destined for this wand when its brother gave you that scar."

Sirius's heart stopped. Surely it was a coincidence that the wands were related in such a way. He turned his attention to his godson. Harry looked ashen and was shaking slightly. Perhaps they should get ice cream sooner than later . . .

* * *

"Harry Potter. Our new . . . _celebrity,_ " Snape sneered cruelly at Harry. "Tell me, Potter. What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry, having been forewarned by his godfather that Snape was a horrid git, already knew most of his Potions lessons by heart. He wasn't going to let Snape get the better of him. Besides, Sirius had wanted Harry to be great at both subjects his parents excelled at: Potions and Transfiguration. So he bit back a smirk and answered the professor as politely as he could manage.

"It makes the Draught of Living Death, sir."

Snape scowled, obviously put out that Harry was correct. "Yes." After a short pause, he barked out, "Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Harry cleared his throat. "A goat's stomach, sir." He thought his own stomach might rupture from holding back his mirth at the look on Snape's face.

"All right. One last question. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"They're the same plant, sir, and it also is known as aconite."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Thought you'd memorize the textbook before coming, eh, Potter? Try to make everyone else look like imbeciles? That'll be a point from Gryffindor for your cheek."

Harry glared fiercely at his professor, but he knew better than to argue. He'd just get in more trouble. Ron actually _did_ open his mouth to protest, but Harry elbowed him in the ribs.

"Not worth it," he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

Ron nodded sharply, clearly unhappy about holding his tongue. Harry thought perhaps they'd secretly let out a few Dungbombs in Snape's office after school. Maybe switch out his regular teacup at the Heads' Table with a Nose-Biting Teacup. It would be rather hilarious to see Snape with a teacup clamped onto his nose during breakfast. He would prove he was the son of a Marauder yet.

* * *

 _Dear Sirius,_

 _I ran into a three-headed dog last night! That prat Draco Malfoy thought he could challenge me to a duel and then turn me in without showing up himself. Stupid git. Well, Filch came sniffing round, so I took off running with Ron (Weasley, you know him). We took a wrong turn and thought we were done for when we came to a locked door. Luckily, I used Alohomora to unlock it and we hid inside. But that was the "forbidden" corridor Dumbledore mentioned on the first day. I know why it's forbidden now._

 _Anyway, I was talking to Hermione Granger, and she suspects it's guarding something. Any idea what it is?_

 _All my love,_

 _Harry_

⊱°.°.°⊰

 _Harry,_

 _THERE'S A BLOODY THREE-HEADED DOG IN THE SCHOOL?! What is Dumbledore thinking? I've no idea what the object is, but someone did try to rob Gringotts on your birthday. They didn't get caught, and they didn't make off with anything; perhaps whatever that dog is protecting was taken out of Gringotts before it could be stolen._

 _But whatever you do, DO NOT go looking for trouble, Harry. I mean it. If I hear a word about you sniffing around this dog again, I will come to Hogwarts and drag your sorry hide home. This is not something for you to worry about. Let me talk to some people and see if I can figure out what's going on. In the meantime, stay safe. There are people out there who would use you for their own means, and I will not let that happen._

 _Love from this old dog_

⊱°.°.°⊰

 _Harry,_

 _I talked to my cousin Andromeda, and she confirmed my suspicions about what that dog is guarding. No, I won't tell you what it is. That's just asking for trouble when it comes to my curious boy. Andromeda and her husband have contacts close to Dumbledore, and they told us what this was all about._

 _Dumbledore is using you, Harry. He thinks someone at the school is trying to help Voldemort return to power, and he wants you to stop him. By no means are you to do this. You're still a boy, and taking on a Death Eater at your age is foolish. The man is Quirrell, by the way. If you can, skive off his classes. No need to put you at further risk._

 _I'm coming to Hogwarts to have it out with Dumbledore on Sunday. Aunt Hestia is coming, too. We will keep you safe, son._

 _Sirius_

* * *

 _Sirius,_

 _What's the Chamber of Secrets? Someone Petrified Mrs. Norris, and wrote a creepy message on a wall about it being opened again. What's going on?_

 _Harry_

⊱°.°.°⊰

 _Harry,_

 _It's nothing good. Salazar Slytherin built it and hid a monster inside. Back then, Muggles were finding and killing magical folk by the thousands, and Slytherin didn't trust the Muggle-born students not to turn them in. He intended for the monster to rid the school of any potential threats. At least, that's what I've heard._

 _You said that Mrs. Norris was Petrified. I only know of one creature that can do that to someone. A basilisk. Stay away from this mystery too, Harry. I don't want you caught in its crosshairs._

 _There's something else I should have told you a long time ago, Harry. I'm coming to Hogwarts tomorrow to talk to you about it. Meet me at the Whomping Willow at 6 PM._

 _Sirius_

* * *

At precisely 5:45 PM, Harry slipped underneath his Invisibility Cloak and snuck out to the Whomping Willow. Whatever Sirius had to tell him wasn't good, he was sure of that much. He didn't have to wait long for his godfather to show up. In his Animagus form, Sirius slunk out of the passageway beneath the tree, touched the knot on the base of its trunk that stilled the branches, and yipped for Harry to follow him. Harry dove into the passage before the tree woke up.

"How did you know I was there, Sirius?" Harry asked as he pulled off the cloak.

"Smelled you," Sirius answered after transforming back. "Doggy senses and all that rot."

Harry almost smiled, but found he was too nervous about the news his godfather had to share. "What's going on?"

Sirius walked the rest of the way to the Shrieking Shack in a silence that left Harry feeling even more anxious. By the time they emerged into the dusty front room, Harry was nibbling his fingernails worriedly.

"Sirius?" he asked in a squeaky voice.

Sirius pulled out his wand and conjured two puffy armchairs. He slumped into one and motioned for Harry to take the other. Harry did so, the continuing silence only making his mood worse.

"Remember last year, when Quirrell finally went after the Philosopher's Stone, how your scar hurt?" Sirius finally asked.

Harry nodded. "How could I forget?"

"I've been looking into why that might be," his godfather said slowly, "and I think I have some answers. But I don't like it, and neither will you."

"What is it?"

Sirius took a deep breath and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You're connected to Voldemort somehow, through that scar."

Harry let that sink in for a moment. "Wait, what?"

"It's like . . ." He sighed. "When he tried to kill you, it backfired on him. Everything I've been able to track down, and everyone I've talked to, indicates that when the spell backfired, a piece of Voldemort became connected to _you_. That's why your scar hurt last year. Because he was nearby, and you could sense it in a way."

Sirius was right; Harry didn't like it.

"So he's _in_ me?" he asked incredulously.

"No, not exactly, at least I don't think so," Sirius said. "Honestly, I don't know fully the details of what it means because nothing like this has ever happened before, but I think it just means you'll have some powers like he did."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "Could—could he talk to snakes?" he whispered.

Sirius's gaze whipped toward him. "Yes, he was a Parselmouth. Why?"

"Do you remember that one time when I was like seven and you took me to the zoo?"

Sirius's face paled. "And that boa constrictor escaped? That was _you?_ "

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. But before it got loose, I might have been talking to it?" He said it more as a question than a statement.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I guess I thought all wizards could do it. But when I got to Hogwarts, nobody else had ever mentioned anything like that, and by then I figured maybe it was something I shouldn't be able to do so—"

"Harry," Sirius interrupted his rambling. "I'm not mad."

"You're not?"

Sirius shook his head. "But now would be a good time for us to clear the air about anything else you've been keeping from me."

Harry gulped. "Well . . . there is that one voice I heard right before I found Mrs. Norris."

"You heard a voice?"

"Mhm. And it was just me. Neither Ron nor Hermione heard what it was saying, and it was ugly stuff, like it wanted to kill and eat something." He bit his lip. "Am I going crazy, Sirius?"

"Of course not," his godfather reassured him. "But I do suspect it means someone actually has opened the Chamber of Secrets and set the basilisk loose. You're hearing it when it goes on the prowl."

"What do I do now?" Harry asked fearfully.

"Don't go anywhere alone. Keep your friends safe. And whatever you do, don't tell anyone else you can talk to snakes. It'll give them the wrong idea." Sirius got up and pulled him into a hug. "I might know where to look for the Chamber of Secrets. If I'm right, then I'll bring in a team of Aurors and we'll get rid of the basilisk before it can hurt anyone else."

"But who's opening the Chamber, Sirius?" Harry asked.

Sirius frowned. "Maybe we'll find out when we get there."

* * *

 _Harry,_

 _I was right about the Chamber's location. Head Auror Moody has given me permission to bring in a team of Aurors to dispatch of the creature over Christmas break when everyone's away. It's to be kept quiet, so don't tell anyone besides Ron and Hermione._

 _See you soon,_

 _Sirius_

⊱°.°.°⊰

 _Sirius,_

 _There was a flood outside Moaning Myrtle's toilet yesterday. Hermione went inside to talk to Myrtle, and she found a diary. It was weird, because it had been chucked into a toilet, but none of the pages were wet. There's a name inside it, too. T.M Riddle. It sounds so familiar. Also, the cover of it says it's from 1942, but I dunno if that's of any significance. Just thought I'd let you know about it._

 _Harry_

⊱°.°.°⊰

 _Sirius,_

 _The school's been so much quieter since you and the other Aurors killed the Basilisk. Thanks for that. You probably saved the school. As for the diary, well it turns out that Ginny Weasley had been using it for a while. She told me about it, and even let me write in it a bit. It's bad news, Sirius. I got the most awful feeling when I wrote in it. Anyway, that's why it's been sent to you. I figured since you're an Auror, you'd know what to do with it._

 _Love,_

 _Harry_

* * *

"You're _what?_ " Harry shouted gleefully.

"I'm your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor now," Remus chuckled.

"I can't believe it! This is wonderful!" Harry danced around the room joyfully. "This is almost better than the day Sirius and Hestia got married!"

Remus shook his head. "It'll certainly make it harder for you to get into any trouble at school this year."

Harry snorted. "Please. As if you'd really stop me. You were a Marauder too, Remus."

"True, but I do like to say I was the voice of reason in a group of dunderheads."

This just made Harry laugh harder. " _Please._ "

Sirius entered the room, his arm around his wife's waist. "Told him the news, have you?"

"About me being the new DADA professor?" Remus said rather loudly. "Yes, just did."

Harry stopped his laughing and squinted at Sirius and Remus. "What aren't you telling me?" he asked suspiciously.

Hestia laughed. "Don't mind them," she said. "You know how they are."

He turned his squint at her. "Then _you_ tell me, Aunt Hestia."

She turned a bright red, and he knew he had them. "All right, what else is going on?"

After the most awkward silence Harry had ever endured, his godfather finally choked out, "Hestia's pregnant."

Harry's mouth fell open. "I'm going to be a big brother?"

The adults in the room all seemed to sag with relief at his happy words. Hestia came over and pulled him into a tight hug.

"Yes, you're going to be a big brother."

 _Wow_ , Harry thought. _I'm a brother._

* * *

"Dumbledore, you're not letting him compete in the tournament!" Sirius shouted.

Harry sank even further into the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk.

"It's legally binding—" Dumbledore tried to say.

"The hell it is!" Sirius interrupted. "He's fourteen! He didn't consent to his name going into the goblet, and he can't consent to being a contestant. I don't care what you have to do, but he is not going to be a part of this!"

"Harry, what do you think?"

Harry jolted upright. "Me, sir?" he asked Dumbledore.

"Yes," the headmaster said in his eerily calm voice. "Even though you didn't put your name in the Goblet of Fire, you could still choose to participate if you so desire."

He didn't like the way Dumbledore's eyes sparked behind his half-moon spectacles. "I—I don't want to be a contestant," he said. "I just wanted to watch."

Dumbledore frowned. "Very well, then. We'll have the contract annulled."

* * *

"I still can't believe he's back," Harry moaned.

Sirius sat beside him on the couch, balancing one-year-old Leo on his knee. "We knew it was coming, Harry."

He nodded. "I know we did."

"Don't be so gloomy, son," Sirius said. "It's because of your help that we're even as far as we are towards defeating Voldemort for good."

"I didn't do anything," he mumbled.

Sirius shook his head. "I've been working on a project ever since you sent me that diary three years ago. It started _because_ of the diary."

"What do you mean?"

"The Auror Department began investigating the diary as soon as I brought it in. We discovered that Voldemort had created a Horcrux."

"What's that?"

"Essentially, it's an inanimate object that a Dark wizard or witch can store a piece of their soul inside. It means they can't ever truly die, and they have to kill someone to make it. The diary was forged when Voldemort killed Moaning Myrtle 53 years ago."

Harry's eyes widened. "But he's killed so many people! What if he's made more than one?"

Sirius nodded. "Oh, he most certainly has. We actually used some of that basilisk's venom to destroy the diary, and he came back over the summer anyway."

"Have you found others?"

Sirius frowned at this. "Well, we've had to do a lot of compromising with Dumbledore about this. He has access to all sorts of information about Voldemort's past that we can't even imagine."

"That didn't really answer my question," Harry said.

"Right. Well, Dumbledore has promised to look into his childhood, before he came to Hogwarts. The Auror Department has been researching and conducting interviews, and we've concluded that he had a bizarre fascination with Hogwarts' founders. At this point, we've also figured out that he set out to make seven Horcruxes."

"Seven? Because it's a powerful magical number?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Sirius said. "Voldemort is obsessed with conquering death, and I suppose in his twisted mind, if he uses the most powerful magical number and the most powerful magical artifacts, then perhaps he will succeed. It's maddening, trying to follow that wanker's thought pattern."

"But you've figured something out?" Harry prompted.

"Like I said. We destroyed one Horcrux. We've got leads on potential others, and we're looking into others still. Hopefully we'll be able to get rid of them all before he manages to get to full power again."

"Yeah."

* * *

 _Dear Sirius,_

 _I've been having horrible nightmares lately. In them, I seem to be Voldemort. And there's one dream with this long, dark corridor with a black door at the end that feels like it's calling out to me, but I can't ever get inside. I don't know what's going on. Is there a Horcrux in there or something?_

 _Harry_

⊱°.°.°⊰

 _Harry,_

 _I know the door you're talking about. It leads to the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. Son, there's a prophecy that was made about you back before Voldemort killed your parents, and it's kept there. I'm worried that your dreams of the hallway are some kind of trick, that Voldemort is trying to pique your curiosity so you'll go there and take the prophecy for him. He can't take it personally, as only the people the prophecy refers to can touch them. Whatever you do, whatever you see in those dreams, do not believe them. So long as you don't touch it, it remains safe. And so do you._

 _Sirius_

⊱°.°.°⊰

 _Sirius,_

 _How do I stop the dreams?_

⊱°.°.°⊰

 _Harry,_

 _It's called Occlumency. You learn to fortify your mind against intruders, thus keeping your memories and thoughts safe. I can teach you. I've talked to Dumbledore, and he's allowing me to come to the school every Saturday evening to tutor you. We'll start tomorrow. Don't worry, everything will be just fine._

 _Sirius_

 _P.S. The Auror Department has positively identified three more Horcruxes, and we're in the process of hunting them down. There's a locket that used to be Salazar Slytherin's, a cup that used to be Helga Hufflepuff's, and a ring that belonged to Voldemort's birth grandfather. We're so close, Harry. Stay strong._

* * *

"I can't believe we've only got one Horcrux left!" Harry said.

Sirius frowned at his godson. "Two."

"What do you mean?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

"Remember when I told you that you were linked to Voldemort?"

Harry nodded.

"Your scar, son. _You_ are—" Sirius cut off with a choking sound.

Harry's mouth fell open. " _I'm_ a Horcrux?"

Sirius nodded. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, tears in his eyes. "Dumbledore says that . . . that you have to . . ."

"I have to die," Harry whispered.

Sirius nodded again. "I don't know of any other way. I've been fighting with him for months about it, but he says the only way to ensure the Horcrux is destroyed is if its host dies, too."

"But . . ."

Sirius let out a sound like a wounded dog and pulled his godson into a tight hug. "After fifteen years of keeping you safe, it wasn't ever going to be enough!" he cried.

Harry's arms were shaking as he hugged him back. "I'm afraid," he whispered.

After a few moments of wallowing together, Sirius pulled back and wiped his eyes. "I know this will seem impossible, but I need you to go back to school and just be a kid for a little while longer. Kiss that Ginny girl already! Just _live_ for as long as you can." He swallowed thickly. "We still have to find and kill that snake before anything else happens, so go _live_ for a while."

Harry nodded. "I'll try."

* * *

" _Avada Kedavra!_ "

The bright flash of green light was the last thing Harry saw before he fell to the ground, dead.

⊱°.°.°⊰

Harry blinked open his eyes, startled at the bright white surrounding him. He looked around in confusion; was he at Platform 9 ¾? That didn't seem right. He'd been at Malfoy Manor when Voldemort killed him. He stood up and began walking toward where the Hogwarts Express ought to be.

"Harry?"

He turned around at the sound of a familiar voice. Her dark red hair shone in the white mist.

"Mum?" he whispered.

She approached him, nodding her head. "Your dad is here too."

Harry looked around him wildly. "Where?"

"Hello, son." James appeared out of nowhere, standing beside his wife.

"Dad," Harry breathed. "What are you doing here?"

Lily shrugged. "We're greeting you, I suppose."

"Where are we?"

"A waystation of sorts," James replied. "You're not quite dead, but you're not really alive either. It's rather difficult to explain."

"But why am I here?"

"You have a choice to make, dear," Lily said softly. "You can move on, come be with your parents and your other family you never knew . . . or you can go back."

Harry's eyes widened. " _Back?_ " he whispered. "You mean, I can choose to return to . . . Earth, or wherever?"

James nodded. "Think carefully about your decision, Harry," he cautioned. "If you go back, it won't be easy. Voldemort's not dead yet. There will be a lot of cleaning up to do to get the world back to rights, and there will be a lot of prejudice to overcome."

"Yeah, but I can't just leave everyone else to pick up the pieces," Harry said without thinking.

Lily smiled warmly at him. "You have already done so much, and you're barely seventeen. We are so proud of the man you've become."

"I love you both so much," Harry said wistfully.

"But you're going back, aren't you?" James asked, his tone indicating he already knew the answer.

Harry nodded. "I have to go back. They need me."

Lily's eyes filled with tears. "Then take this with you." She held out a shining silver dagger. "It's goblin made—imbued with basilisk venom. Use it to take down Voldemort once and for all."

Harry carefully took the dagger from her outstretched hand. Engraved on the blade was his last name: _Potter_.

"Family heirloom," James said simply.

"I'll miss you both so much," Harry whispered.

"And we'll be here when you come back," Lily said softly. "In another seventy or so years. You've a long life to live, my son."

James smirked at him. "Give Sirius hell for me, yeah?"

Harry laughed. "Always."

⊱°.°.°⊰

The next thing Harry was aware of was voices slithering through the air around him. In his hand that was squashed beneath his back, he felt something hard and metallic. _The dagger_.

"Is he dead?" Voldemort demanded. "Someone check."

The room went silent.

"Nobody?" Voldemort screeched. "Fine! I'll do it myself!"

Harry held his breath and kept his eyes closed, waiting for Voldemort to get closer. His footsteps grew nearer, and finally he felt the not-quite-a-man kneel beside him. When he felt Voldemort's breath on his face, he opened his eyes.

"Good bye," he whispered.

Voldemort's eyes widened in shock, and he reached for his wand. In one fluid movement, Harry had rolled onto his knees and plunged the dagger into Voldemort's heart. Voldemort looked down at the dagger in pained shock before keeling over.

Harry yanked the dagger from Voldemort's chest. "Anyone else want to go a round?" he asked the room full of Death Eaters.

Every last one of them dropped their wands to the floor.

It was over.

Light had prevailed.

* * *

A/N part 2: Sorry if that was a bit of an abrupt ending, but it felt right to me. *shrug*


	3. Seamus Asked Dean to the Yule Ball

A/N: So, this is my first time _publishing_ any kind of M/M fanfiction. Honestly, Deamus is the only gay ship I sail on. But how could I not, really, since they're so perfect together. But really, I'm posting this as a potential trigger warning. Anyone who takes issue with boys kissing each other should definitely avoid this installment.

* * *

 **What If . . .**

 **Seamus Asked Dean to the Yule Ball**

(because I'm Deamus trash and I don't regret it)

* * *

Seamus's hands were sweating. The Yule Ball. Who'd have known that the Triwizard Tournament was going to force the students to date each other, innocently or otherwise? At first when the news had broken, he'd been ecstatic. He could _finally_ ask out Dean. But then it hit him: he didn't know if Dean liked him back in _that_ way.

Sure, he'd had a massive crush on Dean since, well, probably the day they met on the Hogwarts Express. It had been innocent back then. They were only eleven, after all. But as they grew closer, and spent all their time together, his feelings grew stronger. It was a tough thing to realize you were in love with your best friend.

And _puberty._ Man was that a bitch. Seamus didn't want to think about how many times he'd awoken in a sweat, his mind filled with thoughts of chocolate hands caressing him. It only intensified from there. He was bloody in love with his best friend, no use in denying it. Although he was a meager fourteen years old, he knew that Dean was _it_ for him. If he couldn't have Dean, he would die a lonely virgin. Perhaps with a few dozen cats. Which would be fine and all, were it not for his damn allergies.

Seamus shook his head sharply. He was going to do it, because he'd never know if he didn't try. And if Dean looked properly shocked at it, well he'd just play it off as "ye know, go stag, check out all the birds and such." It was a foolproof plan. Or so he told himself.

He wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers and turned to his best friend.

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah, Shay?" Dean asked, putting down his fork.

Seamus gulped. "So I was thinkin' about the Yule Ball and all," he said haltingly, "and I thought maybe . . . well, would ye want to go with me?"

Dean tilted his head. "You mean like as a date?"

Seamus's eyes popped wide. "Erm . . ."

Dean smiled. "Yeah, I'd like that Shay. It's better than having to ask someone you don't like, right?"

Seamus nodded. "Yeah, right."

Dean went back to his breakfast like nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Seamus looked down at his French toast with a surge of triumph. A wide smile broke out on his face. This was going to be the best Christmas ever.

* * *

"Ye ready yet, Dean?" Seamus asked.

"Just a sec, Shay. You're so impatient," Dean replied with a chuckle. "I'm trying to tie this bloody bow tie and it won't stay put."

"Here, lemme help ye," Seamus offered. He stood on tiptoe and reached for his friend's tie. "It goes like this, see."

Dean nodded with a sly smirk on his face as his friend showed him the correct steps. "Oh, that's what I was doing wrong."

Seamus blushed at the tone of Dean's voice. "Yeah, like that." He cleared his throat and stepped back, not looking Dean in the eye. "Ready, then?"

"Actually, I got you something," Dean said. "Well, I made it, but yeah."

Seamus looked up. "What? Ye didn't have to do that!"

Dean shrugged. "Nah, I wanted to. Here." He held out a paper rose charmed to open and close every few minutes.

Seamus could tell that Dean had carefully hand-painted the flower, and he took it gently. "It's a wonder, Dean."

"Thanks, Shay. I thought you could wear it as a boutonniere or something."

Seamus placed it through his buttonhole, then frowned up at Dean. "But now ye've got nothin'," he said.

Seamus removed the paper rose and placed it on his bed. Then, making sure to concentrate extra hard, he carefully enunciated, " _Geminio._ "

He released the breath he'd been holding when his spell didn't light the rose on fire. Instead, it shimmered, and an exact replica appeared next to it. He picked up the duplicate and took a step toward Dean.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing at him.

Dean nodded silently.

Seamus swallowed hard and again stood on his tiptoes. He carefully slid the duplicate rose into Dean's lapel. When he was done, he couldn't help but let his hand trail down Dean's chest. It made his cheeks flame an even brighter red.

"My turn," Dean whispered.

Seamus's blue eyes widened once more, and he again held his breath as Dean leaned closer. When the rose was attached to his own lapel, Seamus sighed shakily and jerked his head toward the dormitory door.

"Let's go, then."

Dean nodded again and followed him from the room.

* * *

The ball was a lot more fun than Seamus had expected. He spent most of it with a wide, delighted grin on his face as he and Dean danced to nearly every song the Weird Sisters performed. He was hardly aware of anyone else in attendance. He only had eyes for his best friend.

Rather unexpectedly, the Weird Sisters shifted from the upbeat music they'd been playing to a slow, romantic ballad. Seamus's heart stopped. Perhaps this was the moment of truth. He would find out for sure if Dean really thought of this like a date or just as their regular goofing around. He looked up to see Dean staring down at him with a similar timidness in his eyes.

"Ye . . . ye wanna dance, Dean?" he asked nervously.

Dean swallowed visibly. "If you want to, sure."

Seamus nodded. "Okay."

Cautiously, Seamus reached up and took one of Dean's hands in his. Then he placed his other hand on the taller boy's shoulder. They began to sway back and forth to the music, never breaking eye contact. It was intimate in a way that Seamus had never felt before. He was terrified and excited and, _Merlin_ , so in love. He thought he might die from the power of his feelings. And that made him a total girl. But right then, he didn't much care.

Dean continued to look down at him, his look calculating. Seamus's shoulder began to hurt, so without saying anything, he removed his hands from Dean only to wrap his arms around him. Dean gasped, and Seamus pretended he didn't hear it as he laid his head on Dean's chest. After a few seconds, he felt Dean's arms wrap around his back. It felt more magical than anything he'd ever experienced, and that was saying something. When Dean rested his forehead against the top of his head, Seamus thought he might explode.

Without a word, he pulled away from Dean, grabbed his hand, and dragged him from the Great Hall.

"Shay, what—?"

"Just come with me, okay?" Seamus muttered.

They left the castle and wandered into the hedges that had been conjured outside the front of the school. When Seamus found a sufficiently private nook, he sat on the bench and pulled Dean to sit beside him.

"Look," he started anxiously, "I—I really like you Dean. More than just as my best mate, and if that's not what ye had in mind tonight, I need you to tell me because I think I might die if—"

"Shay, stop," Dean interrupted.

Seamus's mouth snapped shut.

"I like you too. More than just as my best mate."

That was all Seamus needed. He surged forward and pressed his lips against Dean's. It was fire and ice all at once. He slid closer and pressed his torso against Dean's, needing to be closer. Dean threaded his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, making him shiver in delight. Seamus nibbled on Dean's bottom lip, thinking himself to be in control of the kiss. But Dean suddenly pulled Seamus onto his lap and had deepened the kiss. Seamus sighed happily. He liked this version of Dean, the one who was in charge. He surrendered willingly.

After what felt like forever, the two boys broke apart for air.

" _Merlin_ , Dean," Seamus whispered.

"I know," Dean whispered back. "I've wanted to do that for ages."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Kiss me again, Dean," Seamus insisted. "I've already forgotten what it feels like."

Dean chuckled, and Seamus felt it rumble through his chest. And then Dean had leaned forward and connected their lips again. This time was less frenzied, but no less passionate. It made Seamus feel treasured, like he'd never be alone again.

Who needed a dozen cats when he had Dean?

* * *

A/N part 2: I just can't keep my love of all things Deamus inside. I know JKR _technically_ made Deamus canon after the series ended, but Merlin if I don't need proof of it. There's not enough Deamus love in the world, so I'm contributing. There may or may not be more Deamus headcanon installments in the future. I just love them too much to _not_ write about it anymore.


End file.
